Silver Lining by Jerusha Jones

Author:Jerusha Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: small town, cozy mystery, clean mystery, pacific northwest, funny mystery, culinary mystery, food mystery, clean romance, oregon
Publisher: Jerusha Jones
Published: 2017-03-25T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

I stayed up into the wee hours, washing and drying the remaining dishes, packing them into the rental company’s carrying boxes, and listening to the sleet tick against the windows. It was good activity for clearing the mind, and I had a lot of random information to sort through, categorize, and store for future reference. What reference, I wasn’t sure, but I needed some kind of inroad to understanding the confusing developments in the Friends of the Library Foundation board.

My short night was curtailed even further when my phone rang at the ungodly time of 6:23 a.m. It took three forays with a sweeping arm to find it under the pillows.

“Dibs!” Josie screeched. “You promised! Dibs!”

I rolled over and stared at the ceiling over my bed. The wisps of light sifting through the hanging curtains that ringed my sleeping area were gray and cold, a sort of unearthly non-light that nonetheless raked across the intricate pattern of the pressed tin ceiling tiles.

My brain was very slow about waking up, but even so I was absolutely certain I’d spoken to no reporters the night before.

“Josie, I’m sorry—for whatever it is. But...can you tell me what it is?” I mumbled.

“When you promised the primo event of the season, I didn’t think you meant a full pictorial on the front page of The Oregonian,” she wailed. “My editor wants to know why my coverage is a measly paragraph.”

That made me sit up ramrod straight—so fast my blood pressure dipped and my head spun. I clutched the phone tighter to my ear and scrunched my eyes against the swirling sparkles on the insides of my eyelids. “Pictures?”

“Oh yeah. Real doozies.”

“But you didn’t send a photographer.”

Josie snorted. “Clearly, The Oregonian did. Or more likely they tipped off some enterprising freelancer who ended up hitting the payload. Probably earned his room and board and gas money for the month with that one assignment.”

I groaned. “How bad?”

“Well, let’s see...” She sighed and paused as though the matter was delicate and required careful phrasing. “There’s a clear shot of Bill Stokesberry with his arm cocked.” Another pause. “You do know who Bill Stokesberry is, don’t you?”

“Uh, no?”

Josie was laughing now—trying not to from the strangled sounds coming through the line, but laughing nonetheless. “He’s the chairman of the county’s GOP party, head honcho of the Republicans, known for his aggressive politics, and now—” her voice rose, “for his aggressive behavior at dinner parties.”

“Big guy, tweed jacket?” I asked. “Looks like a retired football player?”

“Bingo.”

“He didn’t hit anyone,” I clarified. Not that he hadn’t wanted to, per se, he’d just never actually applied his knuckles to any part of anyone else’s anatomy. At least not that I’d seen.

“Can I quote you on that?” Josie sounded as though she was already scribbling on a notepad.

“Of course.” I immediately swung into damage mitigation mode. Spin, spin, spin. “What else do you want to know? And, by the way, you are absolutely the first reporter I’ve talked to, so everyone else’s claims are hearsay at best.

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